101 Another One Bites The Dust

A/N: next chapter, we are back to Phoenix… very important for my readers… To minimize confusion (although I am always happy to answer/clarify!) from this chapter onward, please take heed to the date and times, because there will be a lot of time and date jumping.

“The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it.”
~Henry David Thoreau~

Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye
Huxi Manor, Borginia
November 2, 2025, 7:30 PM

Say what you wanted about Wa Sing Ku, but the man sure knew how to throw one hell of a party!

Lana was still as impressed by the luxurious estate as she had been the first time she’d seen it. It’d been so long since her last visit that she’d nearly forgotten the splendor and magnificence of the mansion. After all, the previous two times she’d been there, she’d been first drunk off her ass, and then high on angel dust!

When Debbie Dallas and Maximilian Banks had been invited to what was now the residence of both Wa Sing Ku and Wong Li Tsong, for the couple’s engagement party, the two had been uncertain what to expect. However, neither had anticipated much more than a small, intimate gathering, comprising of the standard rubbing elbows, inane polite conversation, canapés that would be more pleasing to the eye than the palate, (like caviar and pâté), and copious amounts champagne, which Lana knew from the last time would consequentially leave her with the mother of all hangovers the morning after.

Both Lana and Miles had been pleasantly surprised to discover their assumptions had been incorrect, and that Ku had spared no expense to ensure his engagement soiree included delicious food far beyond customary, undersized, and tasteless hors d’oeuvres. The guests were privy to feast on sublime Oysters with Bacon Mignonette, Roast Beef Tenderloin with Cognac Butter, Carrot Mash with Crème Fraîche, and Shredded Brussels Sprouts with Slow-Fried Shallots, finished off with superb Champagne Gelatin with Peaches and Plums for dessert. The servers, all young male model types, were immaculately dressed in white dinner jackets, moving wordlessly to and from the table, keeping the platters and glasses full.

After dinner, the shindig moved over to the recreation room. A dance floor and bar, complete with a bartender, had been set up. However, Miles was in hardcore, stick up the ass, undercover mode. He refused to make himself look undignified by “thrashing alongside these drunken fools while looking like I’m having some sort of seizure!”

Ergo, yet again, Lana had had to take one for the team, and agree to dance with the ever overly eager Ku when he had dragged her to the dance floor, insisting that as the “host with the most” it was his duty “to dance with his most beautiful guests.”

Under Li’s hawk-eye, the brunette had endured an agonizing hour of trying to appear as if she was enjoying shimmying and shaking her moneymaker. At the same time, she also had to simultaneously, but not too obviously, fend off the nearly married, but nowhere near tamed drug lord’s salacious advances, which he tried to disguise as dance moves.

Miles had been amiably chatting and mingling in the meantime and had merely shrugged helplessly upon seeing the look of desperation in the Agent’s eyes. She glowered at him and mouthed: “You owe me big time!”

Finally, unable to withstand another deplorable moment of the obscene Asian man’s clammy paws “grazing” her bottom, while trying to grip her hips, Lana had at last excused herself, insisting she needed to rest her aching, stilettoed feet and had made a beeline to the bartender.

The bombshell leaned on the bar, her long russet hair tossed over one shoulder of her crystal-beaded, crimson mini dress. She lolled her head to one side, plumping her red pout ever so slightly. She wasn’t at all drunk, but as part of her bimbo façade, needed to give the impression that she was. After all, in the presence of a harmless, drunken party girl in their midst, people tended to let their guard down and be more loose-lipped.

The young mixologist was there to take her order in a flash, eyes dropping immediately to her low-cut neckline. She twiddled her hair in a seemingly absentminded way and giggled girlishly before ordering a Dirty Martini, glad that she’d practiced drinking sexily from a stemmed glass filled with just water back at her hotel in front of the mirror. While she awaited her drink, she cast a smoky-eyed glance around the room. Over in the corner, she spotted Miles chatting with the newly engaged couple, Ku having finally disentangled himself from bumping and grinding with his latest unsuspecting female guest to rejoin his betrothed’s side.

The undercover Debbie Dallas knew she had to go join them, and steeled herself for another uncomfortable round of lascivious leers, and “accidentally on purpose” pawing. Enough was enough! Hell, she had done her time! There was only so much degradation she could withstand in the name of undercover duty, and if her host could not make himself act like a respectable, almost married man around his female guests, even in the presence of his fiancée, then he could bloody well find himself another target! In a flash of inspiration, Lana decided her best bet was to act as though she was too unsteady on her feet to withstand another round of being spun around – aka molested – on the dance floor!

She awarded the bartender with an appreciative grin as she grabbed her glass. She then feigned a rather convincing drunken wobble while staggering over to the trio and sidling over to Miles’ side.

The good news was that Ku appeared to be in high and amiable spirits, and hopefully, had consumed enough spirits, to give them the information they needed, so they could finally get the hell out of there. She hated the way the kingpin ogled at her whenever they were around him, and it bothered her even more than Li’s presence that night had done nothing to quell his former bachelor habits.

As she joined them, Lana ensured she made a big show of needing support by slightly stumbling, then grabbing onto Miles’ arm and leaning her hip against his side, while smiling congenially at both Ku and Li. With a knowing smirk, Miles agreeably wrapped a welcoming arm around her shoulder and graciously inclined his head towards her, all the while maintaining a steady stream of conversation with the duo.

The future groom-to-be was as impeccably groomed as ever, dressed to the nines in a custom-tailored, designer black suit, which rivaled even the one Miles was wearing that night. The bride-to-be was looking as pretty as a picture in a strapless, floor-length, coral mermaid gown, her beautiful black hair, curled for the occasion, flowing down to her waist in inky waves.

“So how are you doing, lovebirds?” Lana trilled. “Congratulations again! When is the big day?”

“Couldn’t be soon enough!” Ku chortled loudly and squeezed his fiancée around her slender shoulders. Li appeared to stiffen slightly at the gesture but did not turn away from the embrace. “This stallion cannot wait to saddle up his mare and create a whole new stable of fillies!”

There was an uncomfortable silence following the debasing statement. Even Miles, the logic chess master of words for every occasion, was rendered speechless at such audacity.

What the deuce did he just say?!

Lana gawked at the drug lord incredulously. Surely, Ku had to be as drunk as a skunk or high as a kite to be speaking of the woman he set to marry in such a crude manner – and right in front of her, no less! The Agent then cast a stealthy glimpse at the Asian beauty to assess her reaction.

Upon hearing her betrothed’s unseemly statement, Li, whose pink, embarrassed countenance now matched her dress, gave a strained smile, although she made no reply to her fiancé’s crude statement. Then, as though sensing Lana’s observant eye, she forced her full lips into a bigger, more convincing, grin in her direction. The Interpol Agent readily returned the gesture, however internally, her former detective’s mind was already pondering if genuine happiness applied to both halves of this particular union.

Perhaps ‘smile’ isn’t the right word for it – the top row of teeth are showing, and there’s a faint curve to the lips, but there’s no crease below those eyes, no movement of the cheeks. On anyone else, it would be a grimace, at best. Nevertheless, Li’s always been your stereotypically stoic Asian! Perhaps on her visage, this is an actual sign of bliss?!

“My fiancé has quite a sense of humor,” the blushing bride-to-be finally murmured, beaming even more brightly as Ku chortled loudly at the reply, and barely even flinched as he gave her a hearty slap on the backside. “In answer to your question, Ms. Dallas, we are thinking of a small, intimate ceremony, sometime during the holidays, over in Hong Kong, where both of our families reside.”

“I wanted to get married right here in Borginia, alongside all of my dearest friends and associates, with a splashy affair that would rival even Prince William’s!” Ku declared, planting a big, juicy kiss on his fiancée’s cheek, oblivious to her discretely dabbing the wet mark on her face afterward. “But the future Mrs. Ku here is a traditional girl, of good, old-fashioned, Chinese values, and insists on our families being present.”

Lana studied Li’s reaction, wondering if the demure, reserved Asian was at all discomfited by her fiancé’s overly effusive disposition, or if she had merely imagined her adverse reaction earlier. At the moment, though, the other woman’s face was benignly placid as she nodded her agreement.

“The wedding is still over a month away, so until then, I am still open for business, however you see fit, Mr. Banks.” As usual, Ku was about as subtle as a Mack truck. “In the meantime, I do hope the two of you enjoy your visit to the Big Apple next week.”

“New York?” Lana looked at Miles in wonder. It seemed Max Banks had gotten the information they were seeking after all! Perhaps suffering the Chinese lecher’s groping attempts this time around had not completely been for naught!

“Look at that, Ku, you spoiled my surprise!” Miles chuckled ruefully and shook his head at the couple. “I have not had a chance to tell Debbie here that I was going to whisk her away to The City whilst paying your friend a visit!” At that moment, the music changed to the melancholic, yet haunting tune, “Again,” and several couples were milling to the dance floor, already.

A sacred gift of heaven
For better worse, wherever
And I would never let somebody break you down
Until you cried, never

“Apologies, Mr. Banks, Ms. Dallas, for letting the cat out of the bag so soon!” Ku apologized blithely, already reaching out to grab Lana by the arm. “My associate will be most agreeable to help you out, seeing as how he could use the extra money to finance his upcoming nuptials, not to mention that surely splashy bachelor party he will be having!”

The future groom turned to Lana with his customary leer.

“This is a wonderful song, Ms. Dallas. Would you do me the honors?”

Lana’s eyes widened in alarm. It was bad enough to endure the horny Asian’s attempted wandering hands during the fast track numbers! However, the idea of Ku using the current soft tempo as an excuse to grip her body close while slithering his palms up and down her form made her feel beyond queasy.

All of my life
Where have you been
I wonder if I’ll ever see you again
And if that day comes
I know we could win
I wonder if I’ll ever see you again

“Oh, but this is such a sweet, romantic song,” she interjected and smiled hopefully at the impassive Li. “I’m sure your beautiful fiancée wouldn’t mind being taken for a spin on the dance floor in my stead.”

“It is no bother to me, Ms. Dallas,” the Asian woman demurred, bowing her head slightly in submission. “I’m afraid I must excuse myself now, as I’m neglecting my hostess duties. Enjoy the rest of the party.”

And off she went, taking Lana’s one viable excuse to refuse with her!

Miles didn’t need the urging of his undercover cohort’s fingernails digging into his arm this time around to get the hint.

“As flattered as I am that you find dancing with my companion so delightful, I must insist that I be Debbie’s dance partner for this most profoundly meaningful song.” The smile never left Miles’ face as he addressed Ku. “Now then, if you’ll excuse us, please.”

Without even allowing the host to reply, Miles subsequently proceeded to take Lana by the hand as they joined the throng of swaying couples on the floor, one strong arm around her waist, while the other held her hand. She seized the opportunity to appear to be nuzzling his neck, even as she whispered furiously into his ear.

“Thanks for saving me this time, Max!” She hissed. “Why couldn’t you have done that the rest of this evening, when I was held captive in Ku’s clenches, as a true and proper gentleman would’ve done?! And if you dare say it’s because I am no lady, you are getting a swift boot to the head, Buster!”

“Calm yourself, Debbie.” The faux billionaire tightened his grip on her and appeared to be burying his face in her hair as he murmured his response. “There were actually a couple of determining factors to consider in my opting not to cut in like some sort of macho, insecure lover. Firstly, I had to keep an ear to the ground. Secondly, I knew that you were a big girl wholly capable of taking care of herself.”

“Humph!” Lana sniffed, although partially mollified now. She never could stay angry with this blasted man, she realized ruefully. While not a typical silver-tongued womanizer by any stretch, even all these years later, Miles Edgeworth still had quite a way with words!

“Surely any woman that undoubtedly could make good on her threat to give me a boot to the head,” he smirked knowingly. “Would thence have zero qualms about a strategically placed knee to the groin, should our host have gotten too fresh?”

“I have seen farm-cropped produce that is less fresh than that satiric swine was with me!” She cast him a look of outraged feminine indignation. “Do you know that I probably have his paw prints permanently seared on my hindquarters?”

“I would gladly check the veracity of that statement for you, Ms. Dallas.” Miles was unable to hide the grin in his voice. “But that wouldn’t make me much of a gentleman then, would it?”

Lana only scowled at him in response, and he chuckled softly.

“I apologize, Debbie, for any indignities that you suffered tonight. I swear to you, I most definitely would have intervened if it appeared that things were getting too out of hand. Nevertheless, had I not allowed you to fend for yourself, I would have been unable to secure the information that we so prominently needed. Besides, I came through for you in the end, did I not?”

“I guess so,” Lana grumbled, then looked up at him with a quizzical expression. “Is this song really of such great relevance to Maximilian Banks, or was that just an excuse to get me out of Ku’s oversexed clutches?”

At every time I’ve always known
That you were there, upon your throne
A lonely queen without her king
I longed for you, my love forever

All of my life
Where have you been
I wonder if I’ll ever see you again
And if that day comes
I know we could win
I wonder if I’ll ever see you again

“I wasn’t lying.” The laughter died from his eyes then, and a look of melancholy crossed his handsome mien. “Even though I’d known her nearly my entire life, I still remember when I first realized I’d fallen in love with Franziska. This was still exactly how I felt; I wondered where she had been, all of my life. This song reminds me of my own Wild Mare who is still the reigning queen of my heart, whom I have not seen, nor even spoken to, in so long. At times, I have to do wonder, when, or if, I’ll ever see her again.”

“Oh Mi – Max.” Lana regarded him sympathetically, surprised and touched by the poignant words. “I’m so sorry. Separation is brutal. Trust me, I know how you feel, I truly do. After all, it has been over seven years since I’ve laid eyes on the man that I love.”

Miles suddenly felt ashamed by his self-centeredness. Here he was, lamenting about how much he missed his lover, to a woman who had not been able to see or even communicate, with her own, in a dog’s age. Talk about preaching to the choir!

“When is Marshall up for parole?” He asked awkwardly.

“Sometime early next year, if all goes well,” she sighed despondently. “Not that it will matter, anyway, if I’m stationed as a ground asset in Europe when he gets out. On top of all the laws that he broke while trying to avenge his brother, assaulting a police officer, even one as aggravating and incompetent as Mike Meekins, is no laughing matter. They really threw the book at him for that.”

“I’m very sorry.”

“Thank you. Anyhow, this is supposed to be a party, so I can wait till we get out of here to shed a tear in my beer,” Lana quipped, forcing a smile. “In the meantime, what’s the deal with New York?”

“After all these months of placating Ku by having our lips placed upon his posterior by spending an obscene amount on funds on his wares to get back in his good graces, all the while frantically chasing every ridiculous, dead-end lead we’ve had thus far, we may finally get a break. Ku has finally decided to eliminate himself as the intermediary and give us the name of the man from whom he purchases Borginia’s most coveted imports. We will be paying a visit to the unsuspecting Craven Moorehead as soon as I get the green light from a certain Wolf Man.”

“What did you say his name was?” Lana stared at him in disbelief, wondering if the last martini she’d consumed had affected her hearing. “You’ve got to be shitting me!”

“On the contrary, my dear,” Miles shook his head and flashed her another disarming grin. “I couldn’t make this up if I tried.”

Detective Tyrell Badd and Lou Pole the Mole
Hideout Residence, Borginia
November 12, 2025, 3:00 AM

The tiny hellhole had the look of a poorly planned enterprise gone badly wrong. The walls of rough sodden planks were haphazardly wonky, allowing the few surrounding streams of streetlights to crisscross the hut like a crazy tic-tac-toe board. Dirt and moss clung to the grooves of the corrugated iron roof that jutted out, overhanging the walls by a good two feet on every side.

Badd shook his head as he parked a few meters away from the intended destination, and then approached the residence.

The shack would have appeared to others as discomforting and sinister, but it was the designated meeting spot the detective had been summoned to. The clandestine hovel was his associate’s escape place to hide away and remain unknown from the rest of the world. The dwelling had no windows and its only entrance had been barred from inside. However, there was a way to enter it, but only to those who knew where to look for it – it was in a blink and you’d miss its location, buried under the camouflaged ivy, which draped the outside of the tiny ramshackle dwelling like a curtain.

The detective gave the door of the rundown, obscure shack three knocks, in the rhythmic “shave and a haircut” manner, to indicate to the person within of his identity.

The door opened a tiny sliver of a crack, and a pair of frantic eyes peered out.

“You alone?” The voice inside rasped.

Badd nodded.

The door creaked open, moving open a centimeter at a time. Badd knew better than to try to force it to open faster, as the wood of the door had grown moldy and soft with water and neglect, and pushing it harder, especially if done by someone of his strength, would probably result in him pushing right through the door. At last, the door opened just enough to let the big man inside, and then the person within hurriedly shut it behind him.

Dust layered on the floor, like a thick carpet, muffling both their footsteps. Had it been daytime, Badd imagined no more than a few rays of sunlight could burst through the boarded-up windows, casting a dim light across the dingy room. A single, stained twin mattress lay neglected in the corner of the room, underneath a half-packed suitcase and a battery-powered radio was playing in the background. Paper and clothes were strewn all over the table flocked by a single wrought-iron chair in the corner. There were crumbs all over the table, dirty dishes sitting on the floor, and old newspapers piled up in the corners. The decrepit hovel looked like a witch’s home. Even in the light of the dimly lit oil lamp in the corner of the room, Badd could make out the cobwebs hanging off the walls, along with the damp seeping across the ceiling, like reaching fingers. On top of all that, the mildew and mold smell was so overpowering, the detective needed to cover his mouth and nose.

“I thought you’d never get here, dude!” The shack occupant squawked to the detective. “I was, like, totally getting freaked out, man! Even more so than I already am!”

Badd took a step forward so that he could get a closer look at his shifty-eyed insider, who looked both young and old at the same time. He was currently shaking and gnawing at his fingernails, which were already bitten to the quick, and his dark eyes, filled with obvious distress and hidden trauma, glistened in the tiny haze of light that radiated off the small flickering flame of the table candle, the only other source of light in the room. His face was caked in soot, streaked with dirt and sand, making him look like a chimney sweep, all hollow skin, and prominent bones in his narrow face. The long coat covering his bony shoulders was sewn with replacement dark thread and leather patches, and his boots mimicked the style of his jacket: leather, heavy, and durable. A fine layer of dust coated his short, mousy brown hair, appeared ashy grey, the tips haphazardly tousled so they intertwined to resemble a chaotic bird’s nest.

“Get a hold of yourself, Lou!” The big man barked, crossing his large arms across his broad chest. “Now is not the time for hysterics! Just calm down, pull yourself together, and start from the beginning!”

“Give me a break, dude! How can you be telling me to keep calm and carry on when I got my life on the line, man?” Interpol’s long-time cocoon smuggling “inside” man, Lou Pole, bore a face infused with terror, equipped with bloodshot, pallid eyes, and bloodless lips. “You would, like, be freaking the fuck out too, if you had been the one to have literally dodged a bullet like I did, not even 12 hours ago, man!”

I love how he states the obvious with such a sense of discovery…

Badd let out a soundless sigh of exasperation at the younger man’s histrionics for uttering such a ludicrous statement to, of all people, a homicide detective. Moreover, one whose coat had more bullet holes than Swiss cheese! Ultimately, he decided to let it pass, in light of the dire situation.

“Sorry for seeming insensitive, Lou.” He took a fresh lollipop from his inner jacket pocket and popped it into his mouth, the stick bobbing up and down as he spoke. “Take your time, and tell me what happened earlier today when you two were downtown.”

The informant raked an agitated hand through his hair as he lit up the marijuana joint dangling in his mouth with quivering fingers. The poor guy’s nerves were so shattered that he’d clearly missed the absurdity of indulging in the very drug he’d been busted for dealing in the first place! (in front of an officer of the law, no less!) It’d been the weed bust that had made Lou become Interpol’s top turncoat insider in the first place; the alternative would have been hauling his bony ass to prison on drug charges.

Badd decided to turn a blind eye to the current minor infraction, all things considered. Moreover, the pungent smell of the smoke was still more welcome than the unbearable musty scent of the place and even helped disguise it, somewhat.

“It was just a normal day, you know what I mean, dude?” The spindly, squirrely-eyed bloke took a deep drag and expelled a huge smoky cloud, seeming to relax somewhat as he did so. “He thought I was his homeboy, you know what I’m saying? We’d gone downtown to look at some gift shops that sold wedding favors to give your guests, what do you call them, bum in your ears?”

“You mean, bombonieres?” Badd’s lips twitched behind his lollipop as he tried to hide a smirk.

“Yeah, that’s what I said!” Lou looked mortally wounded at the correction. “Bum in your ears! Anyway, man, it was a social call, just us two bros hanging loose, having a nice day out and about. After checking out the wedding favors, we were, like, heading back to his car when he got a sudden hankering for coffee. Ku drank his weight in coffee – he was as addicted to it as he was to the nose candy, man! Well, he went on ahead, and I followed him because I seriously needed to go drain my lizard. I’d only had two cups, but the stuff goes right through me, you know what I’m saying, man? Makes me piss like a racehorse! I don’t know how that little dude could consume so much of the stuff and not constantly need to be seeing a man about a horse! Kidneys of steel or secret adult diapers…what do you think?”

I think I am a hair’s breadth away from throttling you by your scrawny neck! Goddammit, you little shit-weasel, stop straying from the topic! The detective longed to shout, his nerves getting steadily aggravated by the scatterbrained man’s constant derailing from the most important matter at hand. Get to the point where you called me and told me you were bailing on us and why!

Instead of a response, Badd opted to give one of his customary glares. It appeared to be an effective gesture, as Lou got the hint. Putting his hands up in surrender, he regarded the detective with puppy dog eyes.

“Sorry, man! Why you gotta give me that death glare for, dude? Have I not suffered enough already from the trauma of this event?”

Badd barely refrained from bellowing out his now fully fuming ruminations.

Is this the same level of unfathomable exasperation Miles feels whenever he’s had to deal with that bumble butt, Larry Butz? Grrr! You do realize that people just tolerate you, don’t you, Lou? And you’re making it damn hard to even to do that anymore, you irksome little pipsqueak!

The agitated man chomped down so hard on his lollipop that the stick broke off and fell to the ground, dark eyes shooting pointed daggers at his informant.

“Please don’t kill me, dude!” Lou let out a soft whimper from the baleful glower. “I’m sorry, OK? I’m just so rattled, man! Now, where was I? It all just seems like a blur… So anyway, while I was like, taking a leak, he stepped out and was on his phone. I could see him standing in front of the café window as I came back towards the front door. I was just about to join him outside when I suddenly looked down and realize my shoelaces were undone. Such a pain in the ass, man! No matter how hard I try, they still always become unlaced, and I trip over my own feet! Kinda hard to impress the ladies when you’re face planting on the sidewalk, huh, dude?”

The king of attention deficit disorder strikes again! Badd barely resisted the urge to facepalm. I’m too damn old to have the saintly level of patience needed to deal with this dumbass anymore! What have I ever done to deserve this?

“I never realized that my unlucky laces were going to be what saved my life, man!” Lou stubbed out his joint on the floor and stomped it with his boot. “So, like, I kneeled to tie up my laces. Then, just as I was getting up again, that’s when I heard it. The gunshot.”

About freaking time! Now we are finally getting somewhere!

“Gunshot?” Badd prompted impatiently, as the other man’s eyes took on a haunted look while he remembered the series of events.

“Until today, man, I had no idea what real gunshots sounded like. I’ve only heard them and fired them in those virtual reality video games, and it did sound like the ones in the games! At first, I thought it was a car backfiring. But when I saw Ku drop to the ground, I realized, holy shit, that was a gunshot, man! I became sure of it when I saw the hole in the café window. The damn bullet went right through the poor sonofabitch, and got stuck in the glass, and couldn’t even penetrate it. It must have been a sniper rifle and the shooter used real low velocity.”

The poor man’s eyes were wide with fear as he rehashed the details.

“All I remember thinking was, who is it? Where is he hiding? I know these guns can fire bullets further than we can see. I stared out of the window in the direction where the bullet came from, wondering, what if they fired again? What if someone was hunting me down, too, and was rearing to take a second shot? Then I thought, if somebody was hunting Ku down with a sniper rifle, he must be a professional. And there’s no way in hell he would miss his mark.”

“That must’ve been terrifying,” Badd sympathized, completely sincere this time. After all, Lou Pole wasn’t a trained Interpol Agent or even an officer of the law. He was a small-time, former drug dealer who had been their willing informant and inside man to all of Wa Sing Ku’s dealings, and while he had previously lived a life of crime, it had not been a violent one. “So tell me, what did you do then? What happened?”

“It was complete pandemonium in the coffee shop, man.” Lou frantically paced the dusty floor and ran a hand down his dirty face. “People were screaming, trying to hide under the tables, bumping into each other, crying… Total mayhem, dude! In the middle of all the mass hysteria, I did the only thing I could think of to do. I took advantage of the chaos, went outside to check on Ku, and when I realized that the bullet had made its mark and that he really was dead, I reached into his inner jacket pocket, grabbed his papers, and ran like a bat out of hell.”

Lana Skye and Miles Edgeworth
Four Seasons Hotel, 50th floor, New York City
November 9, 2025, 9:30 PM

“Once we get the listening device into that room, and get some proof that this Craven Moorehead guy is the cocoon dealer, Max Banks will find some way to bump into him tomorrow, say that I’m an associate of Ku, and try to set up a deal. It’s just a matter of getting in there. So, are you ready for this, Lana?” Miles probed. “I already have the pinhole camera set up in the room next door to the bachelor party, where I will be monitoring the surveillance of the activities. Do you want to go over the plan of action one more time?”

“Relax, I got this.” Lana fidgeted with the black hemline of her skirt, which rivaled a Band-Aid in length, and undid another button, revealing just enough of a tantalizing glimpse of her black bustier underneath. Miles, being the gentleman that he was, did his best to appear he didn’t notice. “I just hope that the guys are already too drunk and stoned to notice that my attire looks nothing like the rest of the housekeeping staff at this hotel, and don’t mistake me for being one of the peelers they have undoubtedly hired for the evening! It’s one thing for me to have to dress like a cheap floozy for this demeaning task for the sake of this operation, but I draw the line at removing my clothing while the hard-up horn dogs try to stick dollar bills into my garter!”

“You will be in and out of there before you know it,” Miles assured her, biting back a grin. “All you have to do is plant the bug, and find some excuse to get in there to do so. Fortunately, most men are suckers for good-looking, scantily clad women who offer to come to fluff their pillows.”

“You’re just a barrel of laughs, aren’t you?!” Annoyed, Lana picked up a nearby throw pillow from the couch beside her and hurled it at him. “It’s not funny! Even when I’m not on your arm as Debbie Dallas, I still don’t get a break from having to play this bimbo role!”

“I’m sorry, Lana.” Miles tried unsuccessfully to hide his smirk. “I should be more sensitive. Can you even breathe in that thing? That corset looks mighty tight!”

“I’m just fine.” She grimaced. “Breathing is overrated anyway, you know. All the better to put my boobs under my chin, for the merriment of the lecherous pervs I will be visiting in a moment!”

“I have faith in you,” he winked at her good-naturedly. “If you can handle Ku, you can handle anybody.”

“My ability to handle anybody isn’t the situation that I’m worried about,” Lana grumbled as she headed out the door. “The issue would be their desire to manhandle me!”

Miles found this very amusing, which made Lana only want to hurl something else at him, but she was out of pillows, and out of time. It was showtime.

Here goes nothing…

Craven Moorehead’s Bachelor Party
Four Seasons Hotel, Suite 5069

A man in his mid-to-late 30’s, with tousled black hair, wearing a light blue dress shirt with the collar unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up at the elbow, answered the door with a goofy, lopsided grin. A drop-dead gorgeous brunette, looking like something out of every man’s wet dream, sporting a skimpy French maid uniform and a vixenish smile stood there, holding an enormous bottle of champagne in her crimson tipped hands.

“Good evening,” she purred, biting her lip and looking the man up and down appreciatively. “Is this the bachelor party for Mr. Craven Moorehead?”

“You bet it is, sweet cheeks!” The man let out a drunken whoop and cupped a hand to his mouth as he hollered back to the occupants of the room. “Hey guys, this is going to be one hell of a party! The other stripper is here now!”

Without warning, he grabbed Lana by the arm, yanked her into the room, and pulled her into the living room, where about a dozen drunken louts were lolling about. Their lascivious, blatant gawking made her flesh crawl, feeling as though she’d been stripped bare before their eyes.

“Hot Diggity!” Somebody yelled. “Who ordered another babe? I thought our entertainers tonight were gonna be the chick that was going to do that special belly dance routine with the goat and those two Barbie lookalike twins who were double-jointed?”

Gah! It’s more depraved than I thought! Goat?! I don’t want to know…

“Er, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” Lana kept the sickly grin on her face, even though she was inwardly groaning as she waved the bottle of bubbly in the air, hoping she wouldn’t need to use it as a weapon. “When management became aware of the upcoming nuptials of Mr. Moorehead, they sent me to bring up this complimentary bottle of champagne, courtesy of the hotel.” She batted her eyelashes at the men. “Shall I pop it open for y’all?”

“I’m popping a woody just looking at you, baby!” Somebody shouted, letting out a drunken chortle, followed by an even louder belch.

A series of several other lecherous catcalls followed this from the other louts.

“Awooga! Lady, you could set off the smoke alarms in this place!”

“Damn, girl! You so fine, you blow my mind!”

Lana could have dropped dead of humiliation right then and there.

Dammit! I knew this was going to happen!

For the love of God, in another lifetime, she had been the one-time Chief Prosecutor. And before that, when she had been a top-ranking detective, she’d been heralded as one-half of the Legendary Duo. Yet somehow, through some cruel twist of fate, she’d now been reduced to being seen as nothing more than drunken men’s eye candy?!

“I would be the lucky future groom,” the man who answered the door wriggled his eyebrows suggestively at her, leaning down so they were practically nose-to-nose. “Mmm…you sure you don’t make a few extra bucks, honey? We would ensure we make it worth your while… and it would be our little secret…”

Ugh, this libidinous pervert is the mastermind tycoon running the cocoon business?! I pity the woman that’s going to marry him because my instincts scream they want me to do a little bit more for them than just simply peeling off my clothing…

“Tempting though that may be…” Lana subtly inched away and smiled sweetly. “I’m still on the clock with the hotel, and they wouldn’t take too kindly to me moonlighting mid-duty. Besides, it sounds like your contortionist Barbie girls and animal entertainer would be more than enough excitement compared to boring little ol’ me!” She waved the bottle in the air. “This is Cristal, the good stuff, guys! Someone go bring out the glasses while I do the honors!”

Lana discreetly gave the bubbly a big shake and took the small towel that was handed to her while she went about the task of uncorking the champagne. Squeezing her eyes shut, in case the cork went flying, she popped the bottle open, intentionally aiming it towards herself. Just as planned, a spray of champagne went flying onto her, soaking the top portion of her uniform and trickling down her throat to her chest. She tried not to vomit in her own mouth as a dozen pairs of horny eyes fixated on how the soaking wet material clung to her breasts.

“Oh dear, I’m so clumsy!” She tittered, clapping a hand to her mouth and looking at the men with wide, innocent eyes. “Look at me, I’m all wet! And I’m still on duty, with other guests that need to be serviced!” She looked beseechingly at Moorehead and discreetly arched her back so that the drenched material strained against her bosom. “Do you think I could duck into the bathroom and try to dry off, real quick?”

“No problem.” Moorehead nodded dazedly, his eyes never straying from the glorious sight before him as he reached for the bottle of champagne… What was left within it, anyway! “The bathroom is by the front door.”

“Thank you, sugar.” Lana blew him a kiss, swinging her hips as her long, high-heeled legs sashayed towards the bathroom, while 12 sets of admiring eyes followed her every move.

Once inside the bathroom, she quickly reached into the front pocket of her apron, retrieved the listening device, and discreetly placed it underneath the marble counter.

“Done!” Lana whispered with satisfaction, before looking down gloomily at her drenched uniform. She quickly grabbed a towel and attempted to pat herself dry. “Ugh! I can’t wait to get out of this sticky thing…”

Damn, I hope this actually gets us somewhere and I didn’t just degrade myself like this for nothing…

Detective Tyrell Badd and Lou Pole the Mole
Hideout Residence, Borginia
November 12, 2025, 3:15 AM

“Ku has been, like, jerking you guys around, dude!” Lou cried. “He’s not the cocoon supplier at all! Moreover, he’s got nothing to do with them!”

“He eventually relayed that information to Lana and Miles…” Badd murmured. Several tens of thousands of dollars in cocaine later, the greedy, crooked bastard! “…But he also told them the name of the New York-based supplier, a Craven Moorehead?”

“Moorehead is like a Ku – he’s at the bottom of the food chain, too, man! That pretty boy is nothing more than a drug dealing, cokehead, Playboy, who is only one rung above Ku on the ladder! He doesn’t supply the cocoons either, nor does he even know who the key supplier is! He’s just a guy who Ku supposedly buys them from, and we are talking small, piddlin amounts, dude!”

“Goddammit!” Badd cursed. “That bastard Ku has been having us run around in circles, like a dog chasing its own tail, for the past year, and he hasn’t known anything? What a waste of time and money!”

I’m glad that son of a bitch is dead! I truly am!

“Ku was like, just giving you the bum steer, man! Here’s the thing though. He may not have given you the names of people who were more powerful or influential than he was, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know or have access to them. I dunno what his deal was if he was ever going to share this information with you, but I doubt it. My guess is he was just gonna continue stringing you along and keep making you buy kilos off him, to keep further lining his deep pockets.”

“What are you talking about, Lou?” Badd narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “How would you know all this information?”

“Take a look at this.” Lou reached into his inner jacket pocket with a trembling hand and handed Badd a few sheets of paper with handwritten notes, including names and numbers. “These were the papers that I snagged off Ku before I like, made tracks, and spent the rest of the day hiding out in the underground dirt paths like some sorta mole, man! These top-secret docs were always on his person. Ku didn’t even trust digitizing them, by putting them into a computer or cell, in case they were traced or hacked!”

Badd skeptically took the papers from the informant and cast a furtive glance just at the first few names, his eyes widening as he saw some names he recognized.

• Fu Manchu
• Shang-Chi
• Dian Mayudzuki
• Tomas Kashkash
• Adam Baum
• Jim Shu
• Randy Lover
• Seymour Heinie

“I actually have heard of a few of these guys!” The detective’s eyes were wide with shock as he looked down the goldmine of information he had just been handed. “A few of them are notorious drug lords and smugglers across the globe that Interpol has been after for some time, but they keep evading us, or we haven’t had enough evidence to prove they were involved in anything more nefarious than your standard drug trafficking. Is it possible that Ku could’ve been buying cocoons from these guys?”

“I don’t know man, but it’s up to you guys to find out, without my help now.” Lou snapped his suitcase shut and grabbed it by the handle. “This was my final hurrah for you guys, and now, I’m out! I just barely missed being a sniper target today, and I don’t want to live my life by the luck of my shoelaces anymore, dude! Sorry, but I’m just not meant for this racket, man! I’ve done my part, I made friends with the bad guy, but now he’s plant food, and it’s way too dangerous for me to stick around, man! I’m getting the hell out of Dodge, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me!”

“I get that you’re scared Lou, but we can place you in protective custody! No need to run!” Badd protested. “After you testify, we’ll get you a brand new start, a whole new life, and identity! But you need to sign an affidavit with Lang, and provide testimony about what you know! It’s the only way we can get rid of scum like this, and help get them to be put away for good!”

“I never said I wanted to be a Power Ranger or justice champion!” Lou shouted, brushing past Badd and reaching for the door, opening it just wide enough for his narrow frame to slip through. “I’m not the brave, hero type, man! I was a petty thug that got roped into trying to help the good guys, but now that might cost me my neck, and croaking wasn’t part of the deal, dude! I am a shameless coward, I am shitting bricks, and I am getting the fuck outta here! It’s been nice knowing you! As they say in Japan … Sayonara!”

And he raced out the door.

“Lou, wait!” Badd yelled, struggling to fling open the stubbornly stuck door even further so he could squeeze his broad frame through it, but only succeeded in ripping it off the hinges. “Shit!”

He raced around the house in hot pursuit, just in time to see the frantic Lou Pole struggling to get into his car across the street.

“Lou!” Badd started to race towards him but abruptly halted thirty meters short of the vehicle, as his cell started ringing just then.

It was the Wolf Man.

“Lang, make this quick!” He growled as a greeting, keeping one eye on his informant’s rusted, beaten-up Ford Pinto, which the other man appeared to be having trouble starting. “I’ve got an emergency here!”

“I’ve got an even bigger emergency!” Lang countered. “You know how Ku got shot today?”

“Yes, of course, I do! That’s why I’m here with Lou right now! We’ve got a flight risk, Lang, so make this quick!”

“They’re dead, Badd!” The Wolf Man hollered. “All of Ku’s associates: his bodyguards, friends, even his servants… Looks like nobody’s been spared – they’ve all been silenced. We’re talking snipers, mysterious poison blow darts to the neck, drowned in the river, drowned in their own damn bathtubs! One of them, a fellow drug lord, perished today in a car bomb! Anyone that fiend ever had any dealings with appears to have been a marked target. It’s like someone’s been putting a tracker on every single person that had ever known Wa Sing Ku!”

Badd’s blood chilled in his veins then.

Tracker…car bomb… Jesus H. Christ!

The phone dropped from the horrified detective’s hand as he rushed forward.

“Lou!” He screamed. “Wait! Stop!”

It was too late.

“Noooooo!”

There was a huge gust of smoke blown from the engine, and then the car was annihilated into oblivion, right before his very eyes.

As the vehicle had sputtered to life, a horrible coughing sound, like that of a dying man, activated the small, deadly device, filled with a mixture of magnesium powder and mercury fulminate. The Pinto ignited in a fiery ball of yellow flame, billowing outwards into a pillar of fiery smoke and dust, the sound reverberating in the still of the night with the ominous boom of a thunderclap. The light from the ignited mercury burned for a full five seconds. It was so blinding that even closing his eyes made no difference. The blast didn’t just deafen Badd; it shuddered right through him – as if trying to rip out his heart.

The universe turned into a blur, and so did all the sounds. The taste. The smell. Everything was gone. The last painful sensation slammed against the detective before he lost all feeling. Everything darkened into nothingness as the world faded to black around him.

Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye
Ty Warner Penthouse Suite, Four Seasons Hotel, New York City
November 11, 2025, 9:30 PM

“At ease, Lana! You’ve been complaining about LeTouse for the last seven hours,” Miles said dryly, pouring some brandy into a tumbler and handing it to his frazzled partner, who was fuming on his sofa. “Stop, take a break, and get some oxygen into those starved lungs of yours.”

And give my poor, abused ears a break while you’re at it!

“The man is nothing more than mean-spirited, rotten bastard!” Lana seethed, tossing back the contents of her glass in one gulp. “I thought he would be sympathetic to our plight when we disclosed details to him of our dead-end leads and regaled him about how our personal undercover operation with the bachelor party was a bust! He’s a fellow agent! He should know what it’s like to occasionally get the bum steer when sources don’t pan out! Instead, he had the gall to laugh at us!”

“I know,” Miles brooded at the memory as he raised his glass to his lips. “I was there, in case you don’t recall, in your current state of ire.”

“Then you should also remember what he had the nerve to say to me when I told him how those over-aged, drunken frat boys mistook me for a stripper!” She snapped. “His exact words were: ‘At least they didn’t think you were a hooker’!”

Miles barely stifled a derisive snort at the reminder, then cleared his throat and affixed his most sympathetic expression.

“If memory serves me correctly, he may have been trying to placate you with that particular sentiment! And for the record, that wasn’t when he started laughing though,” he reminded her patiently. “I do believe LeTouse still only tittered somewhat when you told him that by the time you exited the bathroom, there was some woman there wearing a belly dancing outfit, doing unspeakably sordid things with a goat that would be forever scorched into your memory… While simultaneously, two other scantily clad women, of questionable virtue, were drawing pictures with black Sharpies all over the very naked future groom, who was lying there in a drugged-out stupor, which we assumed was from cocoon overdose…”

“I could have forgiven him for laughing at the tales of that level of unparalleled, hedonist, debauchery!” Lana sulked, folding her arms under her breasts. “But that still wasn’t the part which made that dickhead double over!”

“Ah, yes it’s all coming back to me now.” He crossed his arms across his chest and tapped his forefinger, a frown creasing his forehead. “I do believe the man was wiping tears of mirth from his eyes when he found out that after wasting all those resources, what with the pinhole camera and planting the bug, that Craven Moorehead was no more than a playboy drug Lord like Ku, who had no idea how to get cocoons!”

“And in all probability, sold some other substance to Ku, which he undoubtedly thought were the Borginia imports, but weren’t!” Lana groaned. “Because that freaking idiot, Moorehead was heard as the one asking his boys if they could score him cocoons, and was delighted to dive right in when one of them said he had finally gotten his mitts on the stuff… Which it turned out was nothing of the sort, but instead of wound up being highly illegal rhino horn powder, to which he had a most adverse, epileptic sort of reaction, possibly due to all the other drugs in his system, and 911 needed to be called!”

“No doubt his fiancée would’ve been called too,” Miles lamented. “I am most curious to know how he was going to explain those black happy face drawings on his nether regions.”

“Who cares?” Lana shrieked. “LeTouse thinks we’re a damn joke and a waste of resources! You heard what he said to us both: Seriously? The two of you are the best assets Interpol has? Boy, are we in trouble! I wouldn’t quit my day job if I were either of you… And Lana, it perhaps wouldn’t have hurt to have taken up Moorehead on his original offer to dance for dollars’!”

“Yes, I concede, that was an underhanded blow…”

“And to top it all off, the one thing illegal we could have busted them for, because rhinos are endangered, we’re not even going to get credit for, because that judgmental, smarmy son of a bitch LeTouse swooped in and swiped it out from under us by calling it in, right there and then!”

“I do admit that was most… Unkind of him.” The prosecutor frowned. “After all, this is hardly our fault. I don’t believe I will be looking forward to working with him in the future whatsoever.”

“Unkind?!” Lana jumped to her feet, her eyes blazing. “That’s all you have to say about that smug, glory-stealing, credit-hogging, asshole?! Let me introduce you to a few other choice words you could be using, Miles!”

At that exact moment, Miles’ cell rang. With a furrowed brow, he looked down and saw that it was Kay’s phone number. Why was she calling him at this hour? It was the wee hours of the morning in Borginia, where she was presently stationed with Lang and Badd. What was going on?

“Hello?”

“Thank Christ you answered!” The shrill-sounding wail was one that Miles never would’ve recognized as his old friend’s, had it not been for the caller ID. The next thing he knew, Kay dissolved into a hysterical bout of weeping, the noisy bawling only interrupted by her need to draw breath. It was a primal sound, one that was impossible for Miles to either ignore…or not be completely alarmed by.

Except for the one time when she had been 10 years old and just found out her father had been murdered, Kay Faraday never cried. And even then, after she had blown her nose in his cravat, she had recovered readily enough and put on her brave face very soon afterward.

This time was different. There appeared to be no end to the heartrending cries from the other end of the line, and he had no idea what to do.

“Calm down, Kay,” Miles instructed, looking anxiously at Lana, who was at his side in seconds, and listening in with an equally apprehensive look on her face that he knew mirrored his own. “I can’t understand you when you’re crying like this! What’s wrong? What happened?”

“C-car b-bomb!” Kay managed to blubber, trying unsuccessfully to muffle her sobs.

“Dear Lord! A car bomb?” Miles gasped. “What?! Where? How? W- Who?”

“It was … U – Uncle B – Badd!”